


Safe and Sound

by 26stars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Popstar, Bodyguard!May, Car Accident, F/F, Hospital, Mentioned Death Threats, Mutual Pining, Popstar!Daisy, Singer!Jemma, background implied Simmorse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23228464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: Daisy Johnson is a mega popstar who has been protected by CelebSHIELD since her rise to fame. When an incident with some out-of-control fans lands one of her bodyguards with a busted knee, the company sends someone to replace her--a woman named Melinda May.Fills my Fluff Bingo 'Bodyguard AU' square.
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Bobbi Morse & Jemma Simmons, Bobbi Morse & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 68
Kudos: 111
Collections: Marvel Fluff Bingo, WIP Big Bang 2020, Women of the MCU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentmmayy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/gifts), [sunalso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/gifts).



“Thank you, Miami!” Daisy shouts, raising her hands as her sold-out crowd roars at the acknowledgement. She grins and gestures to the band and dancers filling the stage behind her, who wave to the audience as well. They’ve already done an encore, and she can tell from the gesture from her drummer that they’re all out of energy for the night. So when she turns back to the crowd still roaring and clapping for another number, Daisy steps up to the mic and calls it.

“I love you all—goodnight!”

The sound is nearly deafening as she turns away and heads off the stage, falling into step beside her backup singers as they ride the wave into the darkness of the wings.

“Good show,” Jemma murmurs once they’re far enough from the crowd to hear each other. “How’d it feel for you?”

“Good—I like that crowd.”

Daisy can feel the distant comfort of a net of bodies closing around her as the halls narrow and they descend to the lower level with the dressing rooms. Her assistant materializes and passes her a fresh water bottle as they head into the dressing room, and Daisy glimpses her bodyguard take up her position across from the door to wait for her to get out of her last costume and back into plainclothes.

Daisy has enough people on her team at this point that she doesn’t have to do much of this for herself—mostly just stand still and move when directed while her wardrobe department extracts her from the garments and steam them appropriately before storing them for transport to their next concert location. Then Daisy’s allowed to step behind the screen to get out of the required undergarments and change into her own clothes before dropping into a chair and letting her hair and makeup team remove her extensions and clean off her makeup. After a brief moment with a fresh hot towel over her face, Daisy feels mostly like herself again, and her assistant brings her shoes and her purse so that she can finish the “reassembly process”.

Jemma is already waiting at Bobbi’s elbow when Daisy walks out of her dressing room. The two women aren’t touching, are barely standing close, but the absence of previous space between them is noticeable at least to Daisy, and she smirks internally.

_Maybe someday before we all retire…_

The three of them join the wave of people headed in the direction of the loading bay, and Daisy listens as her assistant follows behind her detailing the next twenty-four hours.

“Flight to Atlanta at eleven a.m. tomorrow, radio interview at 2pm, fan event at 3:30, VIP meet and greet at 6 before curtain at 7.”

“So I have one night to make the most of Miami is what you’re saying.”

Her assistant ignores her, passing Daisy a card key.

“You’re all checked in at the Hilton, bags up in the room. Mack and Bobbi will get you there and Hunter will take over for the night once you’re in. Jemma?”

“Yeah, I’d like to ride along,” Jemma calls from behind them, and Daisy hears her assistant hand off another key while mentioning a room number.

Down in the loading bay, her crew has the loading of their instruments, stage rigs, set pieces, and gear already well underway. A black SUV waits just beyond the mayhem with a familiar face watching them approach, and Daisy smiles once he’s close enough to see it.

“Hey Mack,” she says as he opens the door for her and Jemma to climb inside. Bobbi takes shotgun, and Daisy salutes as her assistant heads back into the building to make sure everything else gets taken care of before she heads back to the hotel herself.

It’s been long enough since the concert ended that most of the attendees are out on the surrounding avenues when Mack brings their car up to road level, and Daisy checks her phone and waits until they’re a safe distance from the venue before making her suggestion (she doesn’t want to jinx anything by mentioning it when fans are within a hundred feet).

“We _have_ to stop at the Wharf before we go to the hotel,” she says, leaning towards the driver’s seat for emphasis. “I already checked—most of the food trucks are open until midnight. It’s barely eleven. Let’s make it happen.”

“That’s not a safe environment for you at this time of night,” Bobbi responds almost immediately. “We’re not going to let you out of a car in a huge, unsecured park in the middle of the night with plenty of strangers around.”

“Bobbi, this is the last time I’m going to be in Miami for at least a year,” Daisy pushes back. “I am dying for some good Caribbean street food. Come on, please? One stop before the hotel. I can stay in the car.”

Her bodyguards exchange a look and a few murmured phrases, obviously still not thrilled with the idea. Daisy half-expected this response, but she crosses her fingers and hopes for a little grace from Warm and Fuzzy.

Finally, Bobbi turns back towards her. “What’s another area with good street food besides the Wharf? No promises, but we can check it out.”

Using the travel app on her phone, Daisy directs Mack to the avenue opposite Miami beach where several of the top-ten trucks in the city are listed. The first one they drive up to looks so crowded that Mack rejects it out of hand, but the second looks a little less imposing. It’s brightly lit, and there aren’t many people around. Mack pulls into the lot not far from the truck and orders them to stay in the car while he gets a look.

“I bet you’re not the first celebrity who’s wanted street tacos at midnight,” Jemma murmurs as they wait. “What do the rest of them do?”

“Send their assistants for them, I bet,” Daisy reminds her. “But who wants room-temperature meat and soggy tortillas?”

“Microwaves exist,” Bobbi reminds her. “I bet your hotel room even has one.”

“Bobbi, lie to me and tell me you aren’t thinking about jerked chicken, grilled pineapple, lime and habanero sauce…”

“Stopppp,” Bobbi groans. “You’ve made your point.”

Mack approaches the car again and opens the passenger door. “All right, I’d let you two out for this one if we both stay with you. You got a hat, Daisy?”

Sunglasses, while the most convenient of low-profile looks, are hardly subtle at night, so Daisy simply pulls a cap from her purse and stuffs her hair under it before she and Jemma climb out on Mack’s side of the car. Bobbi hangs back as the three of them approach the truck, but Daisy knows she’s still completely engaged, just doing the heavy lifting of Surveillance while Mack covers Intimidation.

There are only a couple of people waiting for food and one person in line ahead of her, so Daisy keeps her head down until she’s at the register. When she raises her head to read the menu, she sees what is probably a reaction of recognition from someone out of the corner of her eye, but she ignores it and just orders a nice spread for herself and Jemma (plus something for her security duo to eat once they go off the clock).

“That’s gonna take a while,” Mack mutters after Daisy pays and steps back from the window. “Why don’t you two go wait in the car?”

“Hi, Daisy?” a cautious voice at her elbow says. “Can I take a selfie with you?”

Daisy turns and meets the eyes of a young woman who looks not much younger than herself. The girl’s face lights up further, and Daisy can’t really say no.

“Sure thing,” she answers with a smile.

The four or five people with her all want in on the action next, but Daisy doesn’t worry too much, with Mack standing right there and Bobbi immediately shifting closer. She smiles for selfies with everyone in turn, poses for one group picture, and signs a couple of napkins. Jemma goes completely unrecognized, which surely is just fine with her, and Daisy chats with the (mostly female) group of twenty-somethings as they all wait for their orders.

Suddenly there’s the sound of screeching tires, and Daisy turns to see a series of cars streaking into the lot, barreling towards them.

 _Someone grammed it already,_ she groans internally. “Well there goes the evening,” she breathes while Mack announces, “Let’s go.”

Daisy knows the drill. She falls in step between Bobbi and Mack as they hurry her and Jemma back to the car. They haven’t even got the doors open yet before the paparazzi are already around them, bulbs flashing.

“Daisy! This way! Daisy! Over here!”

“Out of the way,” Bobbi orders as she opens Daisy’s door and pushes her through it, followed by Jemma.

It doesn’t appear to be just paparazzi, though—plenty of young people just with cell phones have also materialized (probably from other cars), and are also adding to the commotion. Some cameras are thrust into the space allowed by the door, but Bobbi steps between them and Daisy as she climbs into the backseat with them. Daisy and Jemma slide over to make room, but before Bobbi has turned to sit, she suddenly yelps in surprise, nearly collapsing on the two of them.

“Barbara, shut the door!” Mack calls over his shoulder, seeming oblivious. Thankfully, Jemma is capable of hauling Bobbi across their laps, shouting “Move!” at the cameras still preventing them from shutting the door, and nearly taking off at least one lens as she slams the door. Mack immediately hits the gas, guiding the car expertly through the crowd and back towards the road.

“Bobbi are you okay?” Daisy asks as the woman finally gets herself upright, folding herself down into the seat, one leg out stiffly.

“I…ah…someone kicked my knee when I had all my weight on that leg…” Bobbi says slowly, the lack of nonchalance in her voice by far the most unsettling detail. “I think it’s dislocated…”

~

Go figure, Mack wouldn’t hear of taking the four of them straight to a hospital—he and Bobbi both insisted that Daisy first needed to be at her hotel and handed off to other security before they would go anywhere else, and Daisy would have fought tooth and nail to stay with them were it not for the storm of paparazzi at her hotel entrance that she wanted as far away from Bobbi as possible after all that. Hunter hustled her and Jemma upstairs, promising to update her as soon as they heard how Bobbi was doing, as did Daisy’s assistant, once she had heard everything.

Unable to sleep, Daisy had stayed up most of the night messaging Mack, Bobbi, and her assistant, until finally a verdict rolled in in the early hours of the morning.

_Anterior dislocation of the knee. Doctor’s already relocated it. No need for surgery. She’ll be fine, but she’s gonna be in a splint for a few weeks and off duty for a couple of months._

Daisy initially breathes a sigh of relief, but then the other shoe drops.

_CelebSHIELD will be sending over a replacement to meet us in Atlanta tomorrow._

_Can I please go see Bobbi before we leave?_ Daisy messages back desperately.

That’s not really a question—her plane doesn’t leave without her.

“Those look a little excessive,” Bobbi says as Daisy walks into the exam room of the ER where she’s still resting that morning. Daisy looks at the huge bouquet of orange tiger lilies in her hands and shrugs.

“You never get anything flashy for yourself,” she says, setting them on Bobbi’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

It’s weird to see this woman dressed down, off her feet, helpless… the complete opposite of the context Daisy always has seen her in…

“Before you attempt to apologize, let me assure you that this isn’t your fault,” Bobbi says, catching Daisy’s eye pointedly. “It’s never your fault when people are assholes and don’t know how to be decent human beings.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who insisted on tacos…”

“Did you bring me some?” Bobbi says with such a hopeful look that Daisy immediately wishes she had.

“What am I going to do without you for three months?”

“Pay me disability, it sounds like,” Bobbi says with a smirk the direction of the splint on her elevated leg. “Don’t worry Daisy. Coulson told me who they’re sending over to replace me, and I know you’re in good hands.”

“I already know I’m going to hate them for not being you,” Daisy says, squeezing Bobbi’s hand.

“Oh, you’ll hardly notice I’m gone,” Bobbi says with a wave of her hand. “This woman’s a legend. Two days with her, you’ll be glad I got benched.”

“Highly doubt it,” Daisy says, ignoring her assistant pointedly tapping her watch outside the windowed door.

“All right, softie, get out of here and go get yourself to Atlanta,” Bobbi says, giving Daisy’s hand a shove. “I’d say keep an eye out for the legendary, but I think you’ll know her when you see her.”

Two hours later, a car with the CelebSHIELD logo on the doors is waiting on the tarmac when Daisy descends from her plane at the Atlanta airport. Out of the car appear two people, one Daisy knows well.

“Mr. Coulson,” she says as the man approaches her and shakes her hand.

“Miss Johnson. I’m sorry about the circumstances, but I’m happy to introduce you to a new member for your security team.”

Daisy’s eyes have already drifted to the dark-haired woman standing just over his shoulder, meeting a gaze already on her.

“Daisy Johnson, this is Melinda May.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I was really gone, did you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan for this fic to take such a long hiatus, but I committed to finishing it for the WIP Big Bang and wasn't supposed to post any more chapters until this week. Soooooo... :)

The ride from the airstrip to her first event is noticeably silent. Melinda had shaken hands with Mack on the tarmac, and the words and names they’d used hinted that this was not their first meeting, but the two of them do not chat once they’re all loaded into the car. Daisy, now dressed for her scheduled interview and fan event, leans carefully back into her seat and closes her eyes, giving them a much-needed rest after her mostly-sleepless night. She feels Bobbi’s absence—she and Mack had always had such a good rhythm and rarely sat in complete silence when they were in a car with her. Mack, for his part, has still seemed a little wound up after the incident last night, but Daisy’s grateful that he, at least, is still here, even if it hurts to think about Bobbi left in Florida alone.

Daisy goes on autopilot for most of the day—she smiles through her pre-show promotional events, answers questions a little robotically, greets her fans with smiles and kind words that she hopes manage to seem natural, and then puts on her costume and does her show. She’s done performances on insufficient sleep before—muscle memory and her well-oiled machine of bandmates and back-up dancers and singers certainly go a long way on days when she is preoccupied with off-stage matters. She feels a little bad for her Atlanta fans getting less than her best, but all things considered, they’re lucky she didn’t postpone her show.

The cycle that evening when the concert is over is the same except for this time, it’s not Bobbi outside the dressing room door when Daisy emerges in her street clothes; it’s the new lady. So it makes sense that Jemma’s not there chatting with her either.

Daisy doesn’t try to hide her disappointment as she follows the bodyguard towards the garage, only half-listening as her assistant, Kara, walks beside her going over the next day’s schedule (a rest day, thank goodness—all she has to do is get on her plane in the evening). Mack is waiting at the car, but he takes the shotgun seat instead of climbing behind the wheel once Daisy’s in. She reminds herself that he probably didn’t sleep any more than she did last night and makes a mental note to give him an extra day off as soon as soon as possible.

Like before, the two bodyguards don’t chat throughout the drive, but this time as she tucks herself into her seat and closes her eyes, Daisy is grateful for the quiet.

Hunter, usually recon for her team’s destination, meets her at the hotel, where they park in the private lower levels this time instead of using the main entrance. Mack hands off the keys to Hunter while all three of them troop in together, and Hunter passes out room keys. Daisy follows him to her room where he scouts the interior one more time for her, then she waves a tired goodnight to everyone in the hallway and exhales as she closes her door, finally alone. It’s only the layer of sweat from the concert that motivates her to get in the shower instead of climbing straight into bed, but as soon as that’s done, Daisy burrows beneath the covers in her hotel bathrobe, falling willingly into the welcoming arms of sleep.

~

She sleeps late the next morning, but as soon as she wakes up, she sends a text to Bobbi.

**How are you doing today? Out of the hospital yet?**

She’s still scrolling on Instagram when the woman replies.

**Still in the hospital, but I’m okay with it. Not looking forward to going home and being by myself with crutches. The company’s covering the hospital stay and the PT though, so that’s good.**

Replaying the events that led them to this point, Daisy feels herself now getting madder by the second. Though she knows in both the back of and front of her mind that it’s not a good idea, she opens her Twitter app and starts typing.

 **Realdaisyjohnson** : _I’ve been quiet about this for a day but I can’t be anymore—one of my bodyguards is in the hospital because either a fan or a photographer doesn’t know how to behave. Don’t be assholes, people. And definitely don’t take your frustration out on the people who keep me safe. If you’re that kind of person, you’re the reason I need bodyguards. Grow up and show some respect._

The replies start rolling in within a minute of posting, but Daisy tosses her phone to the end of the bed and orders breakfast to her room. She ignores her phone and takes it easy for most of the morning, but by the late afternoon, she’s ready to be outside for a bit. She ignores Twitter while she sends a message to the group that includes her assistant and her security, then messages Jemma to see if she wants to go out with her. Her friend doesn’t respond, making Daisy wonder if she’s taking advantage of the hotel pool or is having a nap, but she doesn’t adjust her plan.

At her requested time, someone knocks on her hotel room door, and Daisy opens it to see Melinda, alone.

“The others all sleeping?” she asks, checking the hall.

Melinda nods. “Mack needs to sleep. Hunter is getting the car.”

Hunter is behind the wheel when the two of them get down through the staff area to the service entrance, and Daisy shows him on her phone the place she’d like to go.

When she goes out in public for something as pedestrian as coffee, shopping, or sight-seeing, having a bodyguard at her elbow is sometimes less than helpful. A man of Mack’s stature stands out in a crowd no matter where she goes, so it has usually worked better to have someone like Bobbi or Hunter accompanying her on the street in broad daylight. If Hunter’s driving today, then it looks like that person is going to be Melinda.

All her bodyguards are well-trained in the finer points of celebrity protection—the summary phrase she’s heard Bobbi use is “If I have to throw hands, then I already failed at my job.” Her guards’ presence alone reduces the number of times Daisy is approached by strangers or photographers, but it also raises her likelihood of being noticed at all. Daisy’s only had one stalker that she’s known about, and death threats are par for the course for her level of celebrity, so her concern isn’t usually for her actual safety, but for her ability to quickly and safely extract herself from any unpleasant situations with fans or paparazzi. People sometimes get unexpected surges of boldness when famous faces show up, convinced that they’d better “shoot their shot” while they’ve got a chance. Sometimes she’s fine with that, some days she’s not in the mood.

Today is the second kind of day.

So when they arrive at the outdoor mall where Daisy is hoping to find a quiet place to be for a while, Melinda gets out of the car before she does, and Daisy waits for the woman to scout the area before opening her own door and climbing out. Melinda is dressed in dark skinny jeans and a leather jacket over a plan crew-neck—nothing overly formal, which is good—and Daisy has on both a baseball cap and sunglasses today. The new woman looks expectantly at her as Daisy swings her purse over one shoulder, and Daisy gives her a nod.

“Just a little walkaround. Maybe some shopping. No fans.”

Thankfully, over an hour passes without anyone approaching Daisy, which is a pleasant surprise. The outdoor mall isn’t very busy, since it’s early afternoon on a weekday, and most of the people out are moms with kids too small to be in school—hardly the demographic that has given Daisy the most trouble in the past. Melinda walks at Daisy’s elbow, her eyes active, keeping an eye occasionally cast behind them too.

Today, this feels comforting.

There’s a famous café in the area that Daisy was hoping to try, and once they’re inside, Daisy slips her hand around Melinda’s arm, stepping further into her space. The woman immediately gives her a surprised look, and Daisy draws back quickly.

“Sorry. It’s something I was used to doing with Bobbi or Mack. People are a lot less likely to interrupt a couple.”

Melinda gives her a shrug. “All right. Whatever works.”

Daisy wraps her hand back around Melinda’s arm, leaning her cheek on the woman’s shoulder as they wait in line. She can’t help but notice a light floral scent off her hair and that the arm beneath her hand has some impressively defined muscles…

“What would you like to drink?” Daisy asks once they’re next to the register. “Let’s sit for a bit before we go.”

“Green tea if they have it, please,” Melinda answers quietly.

They do, in fact, have it, and after ordering both this and her latte, Daisy lets Melinda direct them to a good place to sit. There is an outdoor area that Melinda foregoes in favor of a quieter corner, and Daisy automatically takes the seat facing the wall. Melinda sits down at her elbow, surveying the room for what Daisy is sure is not the first time this minute, and Daisy dares to slip off her sunglasses.

“So tell me about yourself.”

Melinda’s gaze is on the worker approaching with their drinks, and once he’s moved away again, she finally meets Daisy’s eyes.

“What would you like to know?”

Daisy props her chin on her hand, pulling her drink closer. “Where are you from?”

Melinda leans back in her seat, though she hardly looks relaxed. “Originally, California. Middle school and after was in Pennsylvania.”

“That sounds like an unfortunate downgrade,” Daisy muses, sipping her latte. It’s good, though she’s not sure if it’s as good as the TripAdvisor page made it sound…

Melinda shrugs. “I didn’t mind.”

“What did you do before CelebSHIELD?”

“I was a spy.” Melinda’s expression and tone do not change, making the statement even funnier.

Daisy gives her a skeptical smirk. “Aren’t we all. Then how’d you end up in this business later on?”

“I resigned but didn’t want to go completely sedentary.”

Daisy quirks a brow, setting her cup down again. “Why did you resign?”

“I got shot.”

Melinda does not appear to be joking, but that still seems like far too personal of a matter to press on during their first conversation.

“Where were you working before Coulson called you up for this gig?”

“DC area, on call.”

Daisy nods, idly stirring her latte. “And how long have you been with CelebSHIELD now?”

“Seven years.”

Daisy props her chin on one hand again, smiling politely at Melinda. “Bobbi called you a legend. Any idea why?”

Melinda glances away, apparently surveying the room again. “Misguided rumor mill.”

Daisy shrugs, leaning back in her chair and pulling out her phone. “All right then.”

She mindlessly opens a few apps, feeling disappointed even though she knows she shouldn’t. Like most guards she’s encountered throughout her career, Melinda is a professional, and professionals don’t get cozy with their charges. Bobbi had already worked with Daisy for three years and Mack for longer—of course it wouldn’t feel natural right away to have someone new with her at all times.

She has a text message from her Maria, her publicity manager, waiting:

**If you wanted to make a statement about your bodyguard, I wish you would have let me do that with you.**

Quickly, Daisy opens Twitter and is a little startled by the number of notifications she sees—she had already managed to forget about her post from this morning for a few hours. Her rant of a tweet has plenty of replies, which she mostly ignores because she’s learned over time that it’s better for her mental health, but she’s also been tagged in plenty of tweets from other pop culture networks, other celebs…

Daisy scrolls through the tweets grimly, her mouth pulling tight.

 **@realdaisyjohnson** _get over yourself—you think you’re the first person to have a bodyguard hurt on the job? That’s what you pay them for. Better them than you._

 **@realdaisyjohnson** _oh boohoo I’m so famous I can’t go outside without people mobbing me for pictures and attention_

 _Hey_ **@realdaisyjohnson** _what income bracket can afford a security detail? Asking for a friend…_

Her heavy sigh must have been concerning, because Melinda speaks first this time.

“You okay?”

Daisy logs out of Twitter and sighs again.

“Just Twitter being its usual self.”

“You tweeted about what happened in Miami?” Melinda says, though her tone makes it sound like she already knows this.

Daisy grimaces, not looking at her as she answers. “I’m just so angry about what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Melinda says flatly. “You don’t control other people’s behavior…”

Daisy shakes her head. “I’m not angry for myself, I’m angry _for_ Bobbi.”

“She’ll be all right before you know it,” Melinda says comfortingly, though her tone is hardly tender. “And she wasn’t an innocent bystander. We all know the risks when we start this job. Injury is a risk she signed up for.”

“Well, it still shouldn’t have happened,” Daisy says, finally looking back at Melinda. “People shouldn’t be such assholes”

Melinda nods once. “Well, you shouldn’t need bodyguards at all, but here we are. People do crazy things when they stop seeing celebrities as people and start seeing them as commodities they have a right to.”

Daisy sighs, throwing her phone back in her bag. “Don’t I know it.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes as she finishes her drink, though she notices Melinda only sips her tea once. This isn’t abnormal either—plenty of her guards have sat with her in restaurants and only ordered food as a prop. Finally, Daisy picks up her sunglasses and slips them back on.

“We should get going.”

Melinda messages for Hunter to bring the car around, but they’ve barely made it out the door of the shop when the photographers suddenly come out of nowhere. Automatically, Daisy reaches for Melinda’s hand, and the woman grabs it, plowing through the sea of bodies and cameras with a determination that makes them part for her almost without hesitation. Melinda has the door open and guides Daisy through it easily, then climbs in after her.

They’re almost a block away before Daisy lets go of her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy gets to know Melinda just a tiny bit better. She also gets to see a new side of her.

The next stop on her tour is Nashville, three nights later.

This concert is better than the last, to be sure. Daisy is better rested, she’s got her feet under her again, and she’s able to do better than just autopilot. The Nashville crowd is wonderful too, and that helps plenty. She has back-to-back shows that weekend on Friday and Saturday night and plenty of promotional events in between, so Sunday is another scheduled rest day, and Daisy is thankful for it.

After sleeping until noon and then taking her time in the bathtub, Daisy opens the group message between Hunter, Melinda, and Mack.

_ I know this hotel has a good restaurant downstairs—anyone free to come eat with me? _

Within a minute, both May and Mack have agreed to go with her, and Daisy tells them they’re both welcome to brunch on her tab if they can be ready in five minutes. She pulls on yoga pants and a t-shirt and tucks her hair under a baseball cap, not bothering to dress up. The hotel restaurant is for guests only, so she’s not worried about being mobbed by fans, but it never hurts to look boring for the sake of being ignored by other patrons. Mack and Melinda are both dressed in their usual casual-but-on-the-clock outfits when Daisy opens her door to Mack’s familiar knock.

“You’re looking cheerier than before,” Daisy comments to Mack as they board the elevator. “Any news to share?”

“Bobbi’s back home now,” Mack answers as he hits the button for the third floor. “It’s a relief.”

“Home’s Phoenix for her, right?” Daisy asks, glancing his way. “Does she have family out there who can help out?”

“Her mom lives there,” he says. “And she’s got plenty of friends.”

“Where would you hibernate if I weren’t dragging you all over the country?” Daisy asks with a smile. “Illinois?”

He smiles a little too. “Only if the rest lasts more than a week. I’d get too carried away with a project to want to come back to work.”

Daisy knows he means his cars and motorcycles—it’s a hobby that tolerates being abandoned for a few months at a time, but Mack loves fixing up machines and putting them to work.

“What about you?” Daisy asks Melinda as they step off the elevator and approach the maître d’ of the restaurant. “Where do you camp out between jobs?”

Melinda is surveying the restaurant as she answers. “Lately, Arizona too.”

“Oh, did you know Bobbi before?” Daisy asks in surprise.

“Not from Arizona.”

They get a table by the windows that overlook the pool, and a waiter pours their waters after handing them each a menu. Daisy doesn’t get a chance to pick up the conversation again until after they’ve ordered, but then she looks at Melinda.

“Not from Arizona. I want to hear the rest of that.”

Melinda seems a little surprised, and there’s a ghost of a smile as she answers.

“Bobbi and I met at our old job.”

Daisy quirks a brow at her. “I thought you said you used to be a spy.”

“I did,” Melinda answers evenly.

“Bobbi wasn’t a spy,” Daisy says flatly.

“What did she tell you she did before?” Melinda says with a tilt of her head.

Daisy glances to Mack for support as she tries to think back. “She said she was in security…”

Melinda nods. “She certainly was, just on a bigger scale. You know, the national kind.”

Daisy leans back in her chair, an impressed smile spreading across her face. “So was she keeping national secrets by not telling me what she really used to do, or was she just being humble?”

Mack snorts softly. “Probably both.”

Daisy has plenty of questions about this of course, and the topic carries them all the way through lunch. Glimpsing the pool down below makes Daisy want to give it a try after they eat, and this time, Jemma actually answers her phone.

“Oh, this is just what I needed,” Daisy says with a happy sigh as she sinks into the hot tub at the far end of the pool area.

“Me too,” Jemma murmurs, lying back and resting her head on the edge of the tub. “Good call.”

“What have you been doing all morning?” Daisy asks, not lifting the brim of her sunhat to look at Jemma as she says it.

“Called my parents. Called Bobbi.”

“Oh, about damn time,” Daisy says, now looking Jemma’s direction with a wide grin.

“I just wanted to know how she was managing, how her recovery and PT was going,” Jemma protests, though she’s smiling shyly.

“And how  _ is _ it going?” Daisy follows up, feeling a little bad that she hasn’t called Bobbi herself.

Thankfully, Jemma spares no details as she fills Daisy in on their conversation, though Daisy catches her own gaze drifting more than once towards May and Mack, who are sitting in the shade several feet away, chatting quietly. Neither of them have changed clothes for a poolside visit—of course they haven’t—but Daisy finds herself wishing Melinda were in the hot tub with them, if only so they could keep chatting.

But she could meet them halfway…

“Hey Melinda,” Daisy calls, catching the woman’s attention and beckoning her over. Melinda moves quickly towards the hot tub, and Daisy gestures for her to sit down on a nearby lounge chair. “Tell Jemma what you just told me about Bobbi’s last job. She’ll never believe you, either.”

~

The next day, Daisy has already done her research on the street food options for Nashville and has every intention of making a run to a few of them with Jemma before they leave that evening, but unfortunately, her friend’s health seems to have taken a turn overnight.

**_Feeling a bit under the weather, actually,_ ** Jemma responds to Daisy’s text about lunch.  **_Think I should probably keep my distance from you and the others so I don’t spread this cold around._ **

**_Oh no! Hope it passes quickly,_ ** Daisy texts back, concerned _.  _ **_Can I send out for anything for you or bring anything back?_ **

_ I’m fine for now, but I’ll let you know. Thanks love. _

Disappointed but unwilling to miss her shot at Crepe a Diem and Biscuit Love Truck, Daisy messages her security team and waits for their knock. Once again, Hunter is driving with Melinda on the escort. Daisy is hidden beneath both a hat and sunglasses again as they stand in line with her leaning on Melinda’s arm, and after securing a couple of orders of food without incident, she directs Hunter to drive them to the Stones River Greenway, where she’s read there’s a pretty walking trail. It’s the middle of a Monday, so she’s not worried about crowds or fans, and thankfully, her guards aren’t either, though Hunter insists on scouting ahead just to make sure, leaving her and Melinda alone in the car.

Daisy enjoys her food while waiting, offering some to Melinda, who eventually accepts a homemade-jam-covered biscuit.

“So do you have family?” Daisy asks, daring to attempt personal conversation again as long as they’re in private.

Melinda shrugs. “My parents live on opposite sides of the country. I’m not married though, if that’s what you mean.”

Daisy had, in fact, already noticed the woman’s lack of a ring, but it was the fact that she was on tour with Daisy that made singleness more likely. “Anyone special waiting for you to come home?”

Melinda shakes her head, swallowing a large bite of biscuit. “No. You?”

Daisy snorts into her banana-Nutella crepe. “Nah, not for a while.”

Her last romance had barely been one of note—a young man she’d met at the Met Gala last year, a few months of long-distance dating… In the end, they’d only seen each other in person four times before Daisy called it quits. He was cute, he was nice…but she was busy and already very tired of the dating game. After that breakup, she’d decided that she was done with the whole thing until she met someone who could make her reconsider.

She wasn’t sure if she could articulate what that person would have to be like, but she figured she’d know it when she saw it.

“Where’s your family from?” Melinda asks then, surprising Daisy, though she deflects once before answering.

“You didn’t read my Wikipedia page yet? I’m hurt.” She pulls a dramatic pout.

“I only read the relevant sections,” Melinda says patiently, accepting the crepe Daisy offers her.

“Which are…?”

“Recent successes, relationship to fan base, social media presence, past relationships.”

“The parts that can make your job harder?” Daisy guesses.

“Exactly.”

Daisy is quiet for a moment, feeling a little disappointed, but she eventually sighs.

“My mom was from China, but she passed away a couple of years ago, which you might have read. My dad’s from Wisconsin, and he mostly stays up there. He really hates media attention.”

“Siblings?” Melinda asks, and Daisy shakes her head.

“None that I know of.”

“So what brought you from China and Wisconsin to this business?”

Daisy could answer this question under torture, she’s been asked it so many times, but she manages not to sigh as she rattles off her pat answer. “I always loved singing growing up, and my mom eventually got me a piano and let me go to town on it. I made a demo when I was fifteen. Got a record deal at sixteen. Got a number one song and my first Grammy at seventeen, and the rest is history.”

“Almost half your life in this business now then,” May observes, unintentionally reminding Daisy that she is creeping up on her thirtieth birthday.

“Yep. Sometimes it sure feels like that.”

Mercifully, Hunter arrives back at the car then, satisfied that the area is safe enough for an excursion. Daisy invites him in for the last of the biscuits and crepes, then the three of them don sunglasses and troop out into the sunshine.

The trail is absolutely beautiful, and Daisy is so grateful to be somewhere other than a hotel, a concert venue, or a form of transportation that she actually does a twirl the second they get out onto the trail.

“Beautiful,” she announces, taking in the park’s late-summer green. “Even with all the humidity, it’s perfect.”

They walk in silence for a good while, just breathing in the fresh air and quiet enjoying the scenery. Daisy takes a few pictures and a video on her phone and sends them to Jemma, though she doesn’t post anything to Instagram for fear of bringing the paparazzi running. There aren’t many other people in the park—it’s the middle of a weekday and mid-afternoon, so she was hoping for that. Only a few moms with strollers and a handful of runners cross their paths, so Daisy is indeed surprised when someone actually approaches her.

“Daisy Johnson?” an out-of-breath male voice says behind her, sounding still a few yards away.

Sighing internally, Daisy keeps walking, hoping that he’ll take the hint or assume he saw wrong.

But a moment later the man has run back around her in front of her, jogging slowly backwards as he gets another look at her.

“Aha! I knew it!” he says, grinning excitedly and stopping in his tracks, forcing her to stop too. “My name’s Grant—nice to meet you.”

Daisy smiles and circles around him as Hunter moves automatically between her and the stranger.

“Have a good day, Grant,” she says, hoping that’s the end of it. If it were someone who seemed to actually be a fan and not just some guy probably hoping to get a story to tell his buddies, she might stop and say hello. But he’s plenty sweaty and has an air about him that she doesn’t want to stand near for another second, so she keeps going, grateful for her guards’ presence.

“Hey, come on, I just wanted to say hi,” the man calls after her, and Daisy is dismayed to hear his feet hitting the ground as he runs after them. She turns over her shoulder, preparing to ask him to leave her alone, thank you, but before he reaches her, Melinda has stepped squarely in front of him, blocking his way with an aura of a German shepherd.

“Walk away,” she warns, her tone reminiscent of a snarl, and the man freezes in place while Daisy keeps walking, her hand now wrapped around Hunter’s arm. She can’t help looking back though, worried to leave Melinda with a man who has at least ten inches and thirty pounds on her, but the man still seems either too baffled or intimidated to chase Daisy down. He eventually flips Melinda the bird and then takes off jogging in the other direction again, and Melinda backs towards Daisy and Hunter before finally turning around again when she’s satisfied that he’s far enough away.

“He might tweet that you’re here just to get you back for that,” Melinda murmurs as she falls in step with the two of them again. “We should probably head back to the car soon.”

Daisy nods, releasing Hunter’s arm and slipping her hand into Melinda’s as the three of them turn back the way they came. “That was impressive—you didn’t seem at all intimidated by a man his size.”

“If I was scared of everyone taller than me, I’d only hang out with children,” Melinda deadpans, making Daisy laugh.

“Well, I still admire your ability to clear a path with just a look,” she says, thinking of the café parking lot a few days ago. “A skill like that would certainly make my life easier.”

“I can teach you if you want,” Melinda says, flashing her a brief smile. “All you have to go is lock your core, drop your shoulders, narrow your eyes, and just think,  _ murder _ .”

Daisy laughs again, and only remembers when Hunter clears his throat quietly to finally let go of Melinda’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlize Theron is out there teaching us how to walk like evil queens, but I think Ming could give a TED talk on it too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy goes to the VMAs. There is a moment in a limo. And a moment in a hotel room.

After a couple more weeks on the road, it feels like Melinda has always been a part of her team. Things slowly retract to a normal pattern of life on the road, Nashville to Cincy, Cincy to Detroit, Minneapolis, Kansas City, Indianapolis, St. Louis, New Orleans, Houston, Arlington…

Daisy’s post-show longing for street food never really stops, but she forces herself to wait until the day after a concert to go sniffing out the city’s best food carts. It was already a bit of a habit of hers, but this far into the tour, it’s more like a ritual.

And it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s one of the only times she gets any kind of relaxed moments alone with Melinda.

In St. Louis, there’s a Filipino place that introduces her to a dish called Flying Pig, which is so good she almost doesn’t want to share it with Melinda and Mack.

“This might be the best thing I’ve ever had with rice,” Daisy says happily after the plate makes its way back to her in the car. 

“I’m concerned about what that says about your mom’s cooking,” Melinda notes, sipping her Jones soda. “Didn’t you say she was Chinese?”

“She was, but I was a bad daughter who just wished we ate what all my friends ate,” Daisy admits shamefacedly. “And she never made anything like this.”

“You should try May’s mom’s cooking,” Mack says from the front seat. “She’ll ruin you for any other authentic Chinese food for the rest of your life.”

“Does she cater?” Daisy says jokingly.

“Her restaurant does,” Melinda answers, surprising her, “but not cross-country. You can look her up if you’re ever in Pennsylvania.”

In Dallas, it’s a cookie-ice-cream-sandwich truck that calls the loudest, and because of their late hours, Daisy dares to risk an evening run after her concert after promising Hunter that she’d stay in the car and let her get the food while Melinda stayed at the wheel.

What would you like?” Daisy offers in Melinda and Hunter’s direction as she scans the menu from her phone.

“Nothing thanks,” Melinda says, waving her off. “I’m not much for ice cream and cookies.”

“Are you American?” Daisy gapes at her with mock horror from the backseat.

“My passport says so,” Melinda responds flatly.

“Well, I’ll get a few, and you’re welcome to give any of them a try,” Daisy says, circling a few on the screenshots she’d taken of the menu. “Hunter?”

“Nothing unless it will last until we get off the road.”

“All right, one of everything it is then.”

Hunter gets back to the car safely with all the cookie sandwiches, Melinda gets them on the road again, and Daisy can’t help a happy sigh as she bites into the first one in the backseat.

“This is sooooo good,” she groans. “Those guys really know what they’re doing.”

At the door of her hotel room, she tries to get Melinda to take some of the desserts off her hands, insisting that she try at least one. When this goes nowhere, Hunter steps between them and takes the bag, calling a truce. Daisy waves goodnight and mostly forgets about it until the next morning when she wakes up to a text message from Melinda.

_The snickerdoodle/sweet cream one was the best._

~

October brings her scheduled mid-tour break for the VMAs, where Daisy is nominated for four awards. She’s opening the night with a performance too, but her amazing machine of band, back-up singers, and dancers only need one rehearsal on the VMA stage followed by a sound-check the day-of, and then it’s showtime.

She performs a crowd-pleaser of the two most recent singles off her latest album, earning plenty of screams and cheers from the packed auditorium of the current greats in her industry. After taking a bow and rushing off-stage to get out of the host’s way, Daisy does a quick wardrobe change back into her gown in the dressing rooms beneath the stage and then rushes back out to the halls, where Melinda is waiting to escort her up to her seat.

“Impressively fast change,” Melinda observes as the two of them hustle through the mouse-maze of halls beneath the auditorium so that she can come up as close to her seat as possible.

“It’s all my wardrobe team,” Daisy deflects, still catching her breath a little and trying not to teeter on her platform heels, shoes that make her tower over Melinda today.

“That’s a great dress, though,” Melinda adds, catching Daisy’s elbow to lead her through the correct door.

“Thank you!” Daisy says, trying to recall if this is the first time Melinda has complimented her appearance. The dress is a long-sleeved black lace number featuring a long, slit skirt and a cutout over her side. She feels awesome in it, but it’s always a nice feeling when people agree.

Daisy’s date to the awards this evening is Yo-Yo, another chart-topping singer who has been her friend for years. They’d walked the red carpet separately before the show, given Daisy’s early call time, so Elena actually hasn’t seen her dress yet either.

“Wow,” she says with a low whistle as Daisy sits down next to her, waving briefly at P!nk, who is sitting on Elena’s other side. “That’s some dress. You look great!”

“Thanks,” Daisy says automatically, though she’s glancing around for Melinda as she says it. Her bodyguard has already slipped away though, out to the wings where she will wait for Daisy until the end of the show.

“So that’s the new one?” Elena asks, catching Daisy’s eye. “The one who stepped in after your guard got hurt?”

“That’s the one,” Daisy says, facing forward again and trying to act nonchalant.

“You should work a little harder on that poker face,” Elena whispers, nudging Daisy gently with her elbow, but thankfully, she lets it drop after that.

When Daisy’s name is called for Best Pop, she doesn’t have to fake a grin as she gets to her feet, wraps Elena in a hug, and hustles to the stage for her acceptance speech. She keeps this one short, thanking all the appropriate people along with her fans, but when her name is called again for Song of the Year, she actually jumps for joy. Her speech for this one is longer than the first and includes a couple of bombshells that she definitely did not run by her publicity team in advance. Issues that she’s been more willing to stick her neck out for in the past few years.

Universal healthcare. Clean water in Flint. Equality under the law.

“You know, basic human rights.”

Offstage, Elena is waiting for her, and Daisy squeals for joy as she throws her arms around her friend.

“Incredible! I’m so happy for you!” Elena says, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much!”

Winners always have an obligatory photo op after the show ends, so Daisy says goodbye to Elena with a promise to meet at the afterparty before stepping in front of the cameras to pose with her two trophies. She smiles, poses, and slowly makes her way down the gauntlet to the beckoning end where her publicist, assistant, and Melinda are all waiting.

“Congratulations!” Maria says, guiding Daisy through the flashbulbs towards the back halls that will take them to their limo in the underground garage.

“Wardrobe has your afterparty dress in the car,” Kara says as she trots along on Daisy’s other side, now carrying the trophies along with her tablet. “Hair and makeup will take care of you once you get to the hotel.”

“Should I get the dress on in the limo?” Daisy asks, trying to imagine how difficult that will or won’t be.

“Only if you don’t care about Mack and Hunter seeing you naked,” Kara says with a pointed look. “And I wouldn’t trust Hunter with a dress of that price tag.”

“Melinda could help me though, right?” Daisy asks, gesturing over her shoulder, where Melinda is probably not out of earshot.

Kara makes a skeptical face. “Only if she’s okay with it.”

Daisy casts a questioning glance over her shoulder, and Melinda shrugs.

“It wouldn’t be my first time.”

This makes Daisy smirk for some reason, and she gestures Melinda in after her as she climbs into the limo in the sublevels of the event center. Kara shuts the door after them, sealing them in blessed silence at last, and after the car starts moving, Melinda briefly touches her arm.

“Congratulations on your wins,” she says, turning to Daisy with a smile. “I hadn’t gotten to say it yet.”

“Thank you!” Daisy says once again, reaching over to pull Melinda into a one-armed hug, their shoulders pressed together between them. “Nothing quite like it.”

“Quite a speech too,” Melinda comments as the limo reaches the street level, heading for the club where her afterparty of choice is being held.

“Well, when the people give you the mic with an audience that big…” Daisy says, pulling off her heels and tossing them towards the other side of the car. “Help me with my zipper?”

“You’re not even a little worried about blowback?” Melinda asks as she guides down the hidden zipper over her spine.

“I’m a biracial bisexual in an industry that already hates me plenty, but I still sell out tours,” Daisy says with a pointed look at Melinda as she squirms out of her black dress. “What have I really got to lose?”

“Do you really want to paint the target on your back that much bigger?” Melinda says as Daisy shifts across the limo to grab the garment bag hung a few feet away.

“It’s already so big that it’s practically redundant,” Daisy says with a sigh as she unzips the garment bag and extracts the sequined minidress that her style team has picked out for the party. There are no extra undergarments with it, meaning that she’s supposed to wear what she already has on—thank goodness, or this ride would be a little more than Melinda bargained for. 

“I’d hate for anything to happen to you,” the woman says quietly then, causing Daisy to look over as she opens the new dress’s zipper.

“Isn’t that why you’re here? So it doesn’t?”

Melinda’s gaze remains unfalteringly on Daisy’s, not moving a degree south of her nose. Daisy is keenly aware that she’s currently sitting in just her already-minimal underwear, but she’s yet to feel embarrassed. 

“So you’d rather something happened to one of us?” Melinda asks.

It’s a question Daisy wasn’t expecting, and defensiveness flares immediately.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“But it _is_ what you said.”

Daisy scowls down at the dress in her lap and then yanks it over her head, shifting to her knees on the floor of the cabin to get the hem down over her butt.

“I got where I am today by being bold, and that’s not going to change. Some people have this attitude that entertainers should only talk about their art, like we don’t also vote and pay taxes and see what’s happening in our country and have thoughts and feelings about it. The people gave me a stage, and I’m trying to use it to do a little good. What’s wrong with that?”

She doesn’t really want an answer to her question, just pivots on her knees so that her back is to Melinda.

“Zip me up, please.”

Melinda’s hands are gentle, barely skating over her skin to move Daisy’s hair out of the way so that she can get the zipper all the way up to the back of her neck.

“I know. I think you did the right thing. It’s just better to remember that nothing happens in a vacuum. There’s always reactions, even if it’s not a reaction that happens to _you_.”

Daisy is still feeling a little sour as she shifts away from Melinda, sitting down on the other seat so that they’re not next to each other again. She finds the outfit’s matching clutch in the bottom of the garment bag and busies herself transferring the contents of her first purse to the second, waiting to put her new heels on until just before they pull into the venue.

Neither of them say anything for the rest of the ride. 

Melinda stays with her throughout the afterparty, though she fades into the walls unless Daisy signals to her that she wants her closer. After all the obligatory photos with various artist friends of hers, Daisy dances and drinks to her heart’s content, which is a point that she reaches a little sooner than planned, since she generally doesn’t drink much when she’s touring, plus she’s running on an empty stomach after missing dinner.

Melinda sidles up to her before things get messy, pulling her away from the party photographers to whisper in her ear.

“You’ve had four drinks in an hour and it’s starting to show—either slow down or sit down unless you want it caught on camera.”

“How about we just call it a night?” Daisy suggests, turning to smile at Melinda, slipping a bold arm around her waist.

“That’s your call,” Melinda mutters, pointedly removing Daisy’s hand. “Just tell me when you’re ready to go.”

“Well, getting scolded at my own party is certainly a buzzkill for sure,” Daisy says with a pout and a sigh. “I’ve smiled for the pictures and I’m tired. So let’s just go.”

Kara isn’t back to the hotel yet, probably still caught in post-show LA traffic, but Daisy’s ID gets her the room keys for her and her security team without issue. Mack and Hunter follow her and Melinda to her room and duck in to inspect it one more time, leaving Daisy and Melinda in the hall.

“All clear,” Hunter says as he and Mack step out.

“Awesome. Goodnight boys,” Daisy says, moving a little unsteadily towards her door.

“Careful there,” Melinda says, catching her elbow. “Let’s get you out of those heels before you break something.”

If Mack and Hunter give them any looks as the door swings shut, Daisy doesn’t see them. Melinda holds her steadily as she helps her to the bed, lowering Daisy onto it before bending to unbuckle the high-top heels that Daisy was wearing for the afterparty. Once they’re set aside, she helps Daisy out of her dress once again and into one of the t-shirts from her suitcase that Daisy directs her to.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re wasted as a security agent,” Daisy says, managing to extract her undergarments from beneath her shirt without help.

“Don’t get used to this,” Melinda warns. “I’m pretty sure you have someone else on your payroll for nights like this.”

“Well, Kara is very good at her job, but I feel the need to tell you that I don’t have many nights like this,” Daisy mumbles as Melinda helps Daisy into bed and covers her with the duvet.

“I’ll get you some water,” Melinda says as she extracts Daisy’s phone from her purse and sets it on the nightstand.

When Melinda comes back from the wet bar with a bottle of water, Daisy is startled and plenty embarrassed to feel tears flooding her eyes and quickly throws one arm over her face.

“You okay?” Melinda asks, probably catching sight of Daisy’s lips pursed against a sob. Behind the crook of her arm, Daisy takes several deep breaths, and she feels Melinda perch on the edge of the bed while she waits.

“It just…” Daisy eventually manages around a sniffle, “it doesn’t seem to matter when it comes to the things that really matter, you know? I sell twenty million albums, it doesn’t bring my mom back. Thirty million doesn’t fix my relationship with my dad. Fifty million and plenty of awards doesn’t magically bring me a boyfriend or girlfriend who wants to stick around. It just…it’s never going to get you the things that really matter. I’m still coming home alone at the end of the night. There’s no one waiting for me at the end of my tour. So when it’s all said and done, what’s the point?”

She’s distantly aware that she sounds incredibly pathetic. But she doubts she’s telling any lies.

Melinda is silent for a long moment, but then she shifts closer, drawing one leg up on the bed as she turns towards Daisy, her knee pressing Daisy’s hip through the duvet.

“Do you love making music?”

Daisy nods wetly. “Of course.”

“Do you love being on stage?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything else you’d rather be doing?”

Daisy shakes her head. “No. I just would rather not be doing this alone.”

“You’ve got a ton of people around you that love and care about you,” Melinda reminds her, but Daisy only sighs.

“Everyone’s here because I pay them to be.”

“I’m here,” Melinda says softly, and Daisy opens her eyes, finally daring to look in Melinda’s.

“Don’t I pay you, too?” she says, attempting a smile that she’s sure isn’t fooling anyone.

But Melinda actually smiles back a little. “My job description ends at the threshold. I’m with you right now because I care.”

This admission shocks Daisy, but it also makes her brave.

“That means a lot to me,” she says, reaching for May’s hand. It’s hardly the first time she’s held it, but she knows that this is different. “Thank you.”

Melinda barely smiles again, squeezing Daisy’s fingers gently. Daisy tries to focus, searching for the look that she wishes she could find in Melinda’s eyes…

But then Melinda withdraws her hand, patting Daisy’s thigh through the comforter before getting to her feet.

“Get some sleep. If you need anything and can’t get ahold of your assistant, let me know.”

“Melinda?” Daisy suddenly calls as Melinda flips off the lights, and Daisy sees her pause in the doorway. “Would you want to sleep here tonight?”

Silhouetted in the light of the sitting area beyond, Melinda hesitates for a moment but then shakes her head. “That’s not something I can do for you. But I can sleep out here on the sofa if it makes you feel better.”

“No, that's ok,” Daisy says, both disappointed and grateful for the chance to walk back her offer. “You should sleep in a bed. Goodnight then. Thanks for taking care of me.”

Melinda nods, pulling the bedroom door shut behind her. “See you tomorrow.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy has to deal with the fallout of her words at the VMAs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was some awesome art made for this fic and is posted in the may/daisy tag on ao3 if you want to go look! I'll be adding them to the last chapter next week :)

Daisy definitely has a hangover the next morning.

Her mouth is dry and her head feels like it’s full of rocks as she groans her way out of bed, answering her ringing phone that she had never managed to plug in the night before.

“Hello?” she grumbles, holding herself upright by leaning heavily on her free hand.

“Good morning!” Jemma says brightly on the other side. “Just wanted to call and actually say congratulations and ask how the night was.”

“Mmmff, thanks Jem, you’re so sweet. Party was good…didn’t stay long…” Daisy gropes for the bottle of water on the nightstand that Melinda had brought her the night before…

“Well, you certainly deserve to treat yourself. Can I take you out to lunch?”

“How is you treating me treating myself?” Daisy jokes after sipping from the bottle. “I’m actually kind of hungover and should probably lie low at least for the morning.”

“Sounds like it was a good party then,” Jemma says, sounding like she’s smiling. “Well, have a bath, have a nap, have some breakfast and some Tylenol in that order. I’ll check on you this evening.”

“Thanks Jem. Bath sounds nice. Love you. Thanks for calling!”

A bath actually does feel wonderful, and after ordering breakfast to her room, Daisy curls up in a bathrobe on the foregone sofa from the night before and finally checks the rest of her messages. She has plenty of congratulatory messages from people she knows, but her message from Kara is easily the most attention-grabbing.

**Jeff wants you to come in for an emergency meeting with your publicity and legal teams. Apparently your statement last night didn’t go over well with them.**

Sighing heavily enough to make her head pound, Daisy tosses her phone away and curls back into the pillows, reaching for the remote.

Cable TV is, as expected, running recaps of the VMA’s, but they don’t have much to say about Daisy herself. When she dares to reach for her phone again and check social media, however, it’s a whole different story.

#shutupdaisy is trending on Twitter. Her Instagram posts as far back as three years ago have been flooded with antagonistic comments. A handful of people, including some politicians, have @-ed her in support of her speech, but there are plenty more calling her out with corrections and questions of her education.

“Just another millennial sjw who doesn’t know what she’s talking about” seems to be the general attitude of the netscape today.

Well. At least she’s got people talking now.

~

“I’m not sure what else you expected to happen,” Maria says when she calls a couple of hours later. “We’ve been over this before. The stronger the opinions you express, the more polarizing you become. You can’t have one extreme without the other.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Daisy repeats for the eighth time this phone call. “I don’t have any regrets. If my advocacy removed anyone’s delusions that I’m a conservative, then it’s good for both of us.”

“I’m reading double the number of death threats that you had a week ago,” Maria murmurs, and Daisy pictures her scrolling the FanMail email account that she has instead of a P.O. box.

“Well, better hope it’s not like tickets at an arcade, where if you rack up enough death threats people can cash them in for your actual death…”

“Don’t joke about that, Daisy,” Maria says flatly. “Jeff has called CelebSHIELD already and requested an extra detail for the rest of your tour,” Maria says, making Daisy roll her eyes. “And don’t roll your eyes at me—I know you are.”

“I highly doubt that this is worth their time or his money,” Daisy groans.

“I also hope it’s not, but it’s not worth the point-one-percent possibility of being wrong,” Maria says with a sigh. “Promise me you won’t make any posts about your speech last night until we’ve put out some of this fire.”

“No promises,” Daisy says, hanging up.

~

That afternoon, they’re in the hotel restaurant for a late lunch before Daisy has to get on her plane to go meet her manager when a stranger approaches their table. Mack stands up to intercept him, blocking him from getting too close to the table where Daisy is sitting with Melinda.

“You know, I actually thought your mouth would look bigger, considering how you like to run it,” the man sneers as Mack puts out his arms, trying to herd him away from the table without touching him. “You think you’re so powerful, standing up there, thinking you can tell everyone what to do…”

Mack is signaling for the restaurant management, the hotel security at the door…

“You can leave on your own or I can lead you out, sir,” Melinda says, getting to her feet and adding herself to the barrier between the stranger and Daisy.

“Yeah, you think you’re so tough?” the man scoffs, now raising his voice. “Some kid hiding behind some paid muscle? Well you and your ****** bodyguard can suck my—”

Daisy is on her feet, nearly lunging for him, but Melinda seems to have predicted this and turns to catch her in a surprisingly strong grip. Over her shoulder, Mack and the hotel security are now escorting the man out together, but Daisy is still seeing red and certainly isn’t interested in finishing her meal.

“Let’s just leave,” she mutters when Mack returns and assures her that the man has been removed from the hotel, and the three of them troop out to the elevators. Upstairs, she collects her bags and heads back down to the car, and then they’re off to the airstrip.

Jeffery Mace, her manager, had designated his Chicago office for the meeting with her legal and publicity team. Perhaps she should have expected it, but Daisy is really unprepared for the moment when, on landing in Chicago, she is greeted with an entire fleet of SUVs with the CelebSHIELD logo on it.

_Oh joy. More attention for us._

The meeting is a bit of a non-event. She listens, nods when she’s supposed to, but makes no promises. Contractually, she isn’t obligated to say or not say anything on her personal social media, and it’s not like they can dictate what she says on stage night to night. So all they’ve really got are scare tactics, which still don’t really work on her, but remembering Melinda’s words from the night before does make her think.

_Maybe you don’t care if something happens to you, Daisy, but how about if it happened to her?_

They stay in Chicago that night, and Daisy orders deep-dish pizza to the hotel, which she enjoys while video-chatting with Jemma, who is still in Vegas ( _she_ didn’t have to go meet with her manager in Chicago…).

“Do you think I was being stupid?” Daisy asks after they’ve talked about everything except the obvious. “Saying all that stuff at the awards?”

Jemma doesn’t ask her to clarify, just sighs.

“I think if you were a person with the kind of power you have and you didn’t use it to do some good, you would be stupid. Men are never going to like having their faults listed to them by women—it’s like their two biggest fears rolled into one. I don’t think you really care about some assholes on the internet, right?”

“Yeah, but remember what happened to Bobbi? How she got hurt because I insisted on street food?”

“The street food is hardly comparable with social change,” Jemma cuts her off. “You did the right thing with your speech. I’m proud of you.”

Her next concert stop is Seattle, where she reunites with the rest of her cast and crew. Again, a fleet of CelebSHIELD cars ferries her from one location to another, which, to her, is probably the least subtle thing they could do for her presence in the city, but whatever—obviously Daisy doesn’t get any say in this...

There are a handful of protesters outside her first event, and again at one the next day. Daisy puts her head down and does the work she loves, greets her fans, performs a mini concert in the local radio station…It’s when she’s leaving the meet-and-greet after the concert that something unexpected happens.

Daisy is used to using back/staff entrances to locations whenever possible, but local places like this are rarely set up for a covert entrance or exit, so she has to bite the bullet and go in the front when her event ends. Of course, Mack and the rest of her team have already secured the area outside as well as they can, but it’s not like they can secure the whole city block…they’re not the secret service…

So when Daisy hears a very loud _pop_ , when she’s halfway from the door to the car, she at first doesn’t know what she just heard. It’s only the reaction of her security team that fills in the blank. Melinda, closest to her, is suddenly _on_ her, wrapping around Daisy’s shoulders and bending her at the waist as she continues to rush Daisy towards the waiting SUV, her arms and chest shielding Daisy’s head and back. The fans and press that were waiting to watch her exit are shouting and scattering, and it’s really only because of Melinda and whoever is behind them pushing her that Daisy is able to keep moving at all.

“In!” Melinda shouts, and Daisy scrambles up into the car, feeling Melinda still right behind her. The car starts moving before the door is even shut, and Daisy looks up to see Mack behind the wheel, pulling them away as fast as he can, which isn’t really all that fast, given the crowds in the way.

“Was that a gunshot?” Daisy gasps, still mostly confused. “Did someone have a gun?”

“Sounded like it,” is all Melinda says, scanning all sides of the car as Mack tries to move them through it.

“Someone had a _gun?”_ Daisy repeats disbelievingly. “Jesus Christ…”

Mack’s radioing the other cars, and some other security seem to be out in the thick of it, trying to herd people out of the way because after a painfully long moment the car starts moving faster.

“Seatbelt,” Melinda orders, and Daisy numbly puts hers on. Melinda is still actively checking all sides of the car, but then she suddenly turns to Daisy.

“You’re all right?” she asks, eyes searching Daisy’s face, and she nods back.

“Are you?”

Melinda nods. “Not sure where the shots were coming from, but I didn’t see anyone bleeding. Hopefully it was just some hack firing in the air, trying to spook everyone.”

“Well it fucking worked,” Daisy muttered. Their car has made it to the next block by now, and Mack is weaving through side streets in the general direction of the highway, she thinks. There’s another CelebSHIELD car behind them now, and she wonders to herself if the other two are acting as a decoy, driving the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” she asks dumbly.

“Back to the hotel,” Mack says. “There’s enough security there for backup that it’s the safest place for you right now while we get this figured out.”

“You could have been shot…” Daisy says, obviously a very delayed reaction, as she turns disbelievingly towards Melinda. “You could have been hurt—”

“ _You_ could have been hurt,” Melinda reminds her. “This is why we’re here.”

Daisy both wants to hug Melinda in relief and also turn the car around so that she kind find the asshole who almost hurt them and beat him up herself. It makes no sense…of course she knows what her security team is here for, but it’s never actually felt like anyone’s _life_ was in danger before tonight.

Mack’s phone is ringing, and Daisy bets that it’s Jeff or Mr. Coulson, calling because he already heard from the news about the madness in Seattle. They’re coming up to a red light, and when the car stops Melinda leaves her seat to crawl up and get in the front seat next to Mack.

“I’ll talk to him,” she says, reaching over and plucking Mack’s phone from his belt. “Jeff?” she says as she brings the phone to her ear. “Yeah everyone in our car’s okay. Daisy’s not hurt. We’re on our way back to the hotel…

The light changes, and Mack pulls forward into the intersection, headed for the upcoming on-ramp for the highway. Daisy turns her head as they pass through and looks into the lights something tall bearing down on them…

And suddenly, everything is very, very _loud_.

~

Daisy can’t make sense of anything when she opens her eyes again. There are red and blue lights everywhere; there are a lot of voices but no words she can make sense of; there are some faces very close to hers that are saying things loudly but she can’t see any of their faces clearly…

When she tries to say something, it just _hurts_ …

She coughs, and that hurts more, but the pain also makes some of the fog clear, and she gradually starts to make sense of the words she’s hearing.

“Miss? If you can hear what I’m saying, blink twice.”

It takes a lot of effort not just to blink, but to open her eyes again after closing them.

“Okay that’s good. Can you tell me your name?”

“Her name is Daisy!” a familiar voice shouts, though it sounds far away.

“Mack?” she mumbles, squinting into the brightness.

“Your friend is fine, we’re taking care of him. Is your name Daisy?”

Things in front of her slowly slide into focus. Someone who looks like an EMT. Someone who looks like a cop…

“You’ve been in an accident. We’re going to get you out of the car now. Are you feeling any extreme pain in any place right now?”

Daisy takes a deep breath and suddenly has her answer. “My chest…”

“Ok, we’re going to get you out and lie you down and get you on your way to a hospital as quickly as we can…”

“Melinda.”

The realization hits her so suddenly that Daisy is suddenly motivated to try to move, to look around, survey for the first time the extent of the damage inside the car… blown airbags…shattered windows…

And more rescue workers on the opposite side of the car, working on the person in the passenger seat who isn’t moving...

“Melinda!”

Everything else fades out.

“Melinda!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise she's not dead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout. Waiting. Decisions.

Daisy doesn’t get a decent look at Melinda before she’s extracted from the wreckage of the car and lain on a bodyboard, ordered to move as little as possible. Mack, who is sitting on the curb nearby with only some blood dripping from one side of his head, is not allowed to ride with her in the ambulance, but he’s apparently been making calls to relevant people because Kara is at the hospital when Daisy arrives in the emergency room.

“Daisy!” Kara shouts, running up to Daisy’s gurney as it rolls into a building under bright ceiling lights. “Is she okay?”

“We’re going to take good care of her,” a masked-up doctor promises, leaning over Daisy as they all continue walking. “Please go talk to admitting while we start treatment.”

“Kara, do you know where Melinda is?” Daisy asks urgently, grabbing for Kara’s hand before anyone pushes her out of the way. “Is she okay? Is she coming in an ambulance too?”

But she and Kara are abruptly separated as Daisy’s gurney slides through a set of doors, leaving Daisy alone with medical staff.

“Let’s get her in trauma room two…”

The next couple of hours are a blur (“Can you move your toes for us? Does this hurt? Take a deep breath for me…”). After x-rays and a CAT scan, she is released from the backboard and neck brace. The head of her bed is raised so that she can sit up, though she is cautioned not to move because she has two cracked ribs. Apparently she is lucky to have no internal bleeding, but a nurse warns her that her seatbelt will have left her a sash of bruises by the morning. A different nurse is already cleaning and stitching up the deepest cuts in her arms from the broken window, and Daisy has been told that she has a cut on her cheek that will need a plastic surgeon. She’s afraid to ask for a mirror, but she doesn’t stop asking for Melinda.

“The woman who was in the front seat of my car, did she come in too? Is she alive?”

“I can find out for you when I’m done taking care of this,” a nurse answers patiently for the third time this hour as she continues suturing her arm.

Daisy has nothing with her—no phone, no purse, no money, and the nurses even cut away all the clothes she was wearing to put her in a hospital gown. Thankfully, it seems that Kara is taking care of business on her behalf outside the room, because as soon as Daisy’s stiches are done and her cheek is covered with a bandage, Kara is allowed in to see her, and she has news.

“Is Melinda okay?” Daisy asks urgently as soon as she walks in. “Please tell me she’s okay.”

Kara takes a hesitant breath, and Daisy prepares for the worst.

“They brought her here, too. She’s in surgery,” Kara finally says. “It sounds pretty bad.”

Daisy exhales slowly and forgets to inhale again. When her body finally forces her to do it, her gasp becomes a shudder, and her eyes fill with tears. Kara immediately closes the space between them and pulls her into a careful hug, and Daisy wraps her arms around her while beginning to sob into the woman’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Kara repeats quietly. “It’s okay.”

A doctor eventually interrupts them, saying he’s the plastic surgeon sent to stitch up Daisy’s cheek, and Kara has to leave again.

“I’ve already talked to Mace, and Maria is on her way here now,” Kara says before she backs out the door. “Hunter and the rest of your guards are securing the hospital now. Maria said she and Jeff will prepare a statement after she gets here and talks to you.”

“I think my phone is in the car still…” Daisy says, aware of how shallow it sounds.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kara offers. “The wreck is being towed already, according the to guards in the car behind you, who are still on site. Mack came here in a different ambulance and they’ve discharged him already—he’s camping out in the surgery wing waiting for news of Melinda. But he might have your phone.”

Daisy doubts that but nods, sniffling hard. “Please come tell me if you hear anything about her.”

Kara nods as the door is closed on her. “I will. I promise.”

“You’re definitely the first celebrity I’ve ever done work on,” the elderly doctor jokes as he prepares the anesthetic for her face. “Is this your good side?”

Daisy says nothing in response, just staring at the ceiling and counting the seconds, hoping in every single one that it’s a moment Melinda’s heart is still beating.

~

Daisy only knows the time of the (very early) morning by the clock on the wall in the emergency room bay where she has been put most recently, enclosed behind curtains in her own “room” but still under supervision. She’s already given her statement to the police, every cut has been stitched or bandaged, her second set of x-ray films have all come back clear, and now she is just waiting with a cold pack around her ribs for someone to fetch her so that she can be discharged. When Kara is allowed back to her again, she enters with both Maria and Hunter in tow.

“Any news about Melinda?” Daisy asks as soon as she sees them. She tries to sit up, but the movement of course jostles her ribs, and she winces with an involuntary gasp.

“Take it easy,” Maria says, reaching towards her as if to stop her from moving more. “Those ribs aren’t going to heal any faster with you ignoring them.”

“Did you hear anything about Melinda?” Daisy repeats, ignoring Maria’s deflection. “Please just tell me, good or bad.”

“Mack is still waiting upstairs for any updates on her,” Hunter says, and Daisy fixes her eyes on him, relieved. “I only got to talk to him for a minute, but he said Melinda was unresponsive on the scene. The other car hit yours basically right on her door, so she obviously got the worst injuries.”

“So she’s still in surgery?” Daisy had barely registered anything else from Hunter’s monologue.

Hunter nods once. “Yeah. Still in surgery. That’s all any of us know.”

Daisy lets out a slow breath, willing herself not to cry again.

“So what happened? Who hit us?”

“From what we’ve gathered from Mack, the police, and the witnesses in the car behind you,” Maria says, taking over the conversation, “Mack pulled forward when the light changed, but a driver on the cross street ran his red light, T-boning your car. You all weren’t going too fast yet, but he was probably going at least 50.”

“Was it someone targeting me?” Daisy asks, feeling nauseated. “Did the driver survive? Did they arrest him?”

“It was a drunk driver,” Maria said, shaking her head. “Some older local, didn’t even know who you were. He was barely hurt from the crash, but Mack said the man was too drunk to even stand when the police got him out of the car. This accident isn’t on you, Daisy—it could have happened to anyone. Might have happened to another car at the next light if it hadn’t happened at yours.”

Daisy knows she should be relieved by this, that she should be glad to hear that it was just an accident, something that could have happened to anyone. Nevertheless, all she feels is sick.

“Melinda will be all right,” Hunter says quietly, tender words that Daisy distantly registers as surprising, coming from him. “She’s been through worse than a car wreck and come through with a laugh. It will take a lot more than a drunk driver to keep her down.”

Daisy tries to smile hopefully, but she doesn’t have the strength. Thankfully, they are interrupted by a doctor coming to explain her injuries and necessary care to Maria, who is signing her out. Hunter waits beyond the curtain while the two women help Daisy re-dress in sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. They sign her discharge forms, and it distantly occurs to Daisy that if the night had gone has planned, she would have only been signing autographs.

Finally she’s allowed to slowly get out of the bed and onto her feet after a wheelchair is brought to her bedside.

“There’s no entrance to the hospital that doesn’t have paparazzi at it,” Hunter tells her as Daisy settles uncomfortably into the chair. “We got permission to use one of the exits in the staff parking garage, and the car’s waiting…”

“Wait,” Daisy says, throwing the brakes on the wheelchair as he starts to push it. “We’re leaving? What about Melinda?”

“We can’t keep you safe here, Daisy,” Hunter says. “She’s being well cared for, and you can’t do anything for her by staying here.”

Daisy looks frantically over her shoulder at him. “She’s in surgery because she was protecting me. I’m _not_ leaving her.”

“We’re not taking you far, Daisy,” Maria assures her. “You obviously shouldn’t travel for at least a few days, so we’ll keep you at a hotel nearby until you’re a little better. But this hospital isn’t the kind of place someone as high-profile as you can just sit around waiting for a friend. Mack will stay with Melinda and update us, and even Coulson will be on a flight here in the morning to help with her.”

Daisy understands everything they’re saying, but backing down doesn’t feel right.

“But what if she…”

She can’t finish the sentence.

_What if she doesn’t make it?_

“That’s not going to happen,” Hunter says firmly, as if reading her mind. “But even if it did, your being here wouldn’t stop it.”

Daisy finally surrenders only because she knows she’s about to start crying again anyway, so she just accepts the sunglasses that Kara offers her and pulls her hood up around her face.

She is vaguely aware of the flashes of paparazzi cameras outside the car when it finally carries her out of the parking garage a few minutes later, but it’s all Daisy can do to focus on anything other than the stabs of pain around her chest every time she breathes and the deeper, scarier ache attempting to crowd those pains out. A black hole of guilt and fear that feels big enough to disappear into.

 _Let her be okay,_ she pleads to a god she doesn’t believe in. _Please let her make it through._

She breathes deeper so that her ribs hurt more, because that, at least, is a pain she knows how to bear.

~

The doctor sent her home with a prescription for strong painkillers for her ribs so that she’d be able to sleep, but even after the first one kicks in, Daisy is far too keyed up to manage it. Kara had initially set her up as comfortably as possible in her hotel bed, but Daisy is keenly aware of the dried blood crusted in her hair, and she eventually asks Kara to help her into a hot bath, since she’s not supposed to get the sutures on her arm wet and therefore can’t shower. The heat helps her relax a little bit, and Kara helps her get clean, but when Daisy gets out of the tub and finally risks a look at herself in the mirror before she’s wrapped in a bathrobe, she can only sigh at the sight of the cuts on her face and arms and the bruises all over her body.

This is going to be a long road to _better_.

Kara gets her back in bed and sets up everything Daisy could need within reach, then leaves her with a spare cell phone while she goes to see if she can get any of Daisy’s things out of the wreck. While she’s gone, Daisy gets a message from Hunter, who must have been given Kara’s number for this exact reason.

**She made it through surgery. In recovery now. Still keeping a close eye on her, but the worst should be over. They had to remove her spleen, had to repair a broken pelvis and an arm broken in two places. She’s also got a lacerated liver and couple of broken ribs to match yours. But as long as she wakes up all right and doesn’t show signs of brain damage, she’s probably going to be fine.**

Melting with relief, Daisy puts the phone down and presses both of her hands to her face. Sobbing makes her ribs ache, but she still feels only relief.

~

The next day, Daisy manages to dress in real clothes, put makeup over the worst of the bruises on her face, and sit in a proper chair for the meeting with her legal team, publicity team, manager, and security team. They all congregate in the sitting room of her hotel suite, and Daisy tries to look authoritative as possible for someone who can barely move without something hurting.

The meeting doesn’t have too many surprises: they have to postpone the tour six months while she heals (and there is so _much_ wrapped up in that decision that Daisy is so grateful she won’t be the one tying up all the loose ends); they draft a press statement together (just the facts—hit by a drunk driver, non-threatening injuries for Daisy but one bodyguard still in the hospital, tour is postponed, driver was arrested…); they follow up with the security team about what happened with the shooter at the fan even right before the accident (Daisy had nearly forgotten about that part already…); then they listen to the legal team about what will be coming next in the legal process of prosecuting the driver who hit them.

It’s going to be a drawn-out process, but Daisy knows she’ll show up to every part of it. For Melinda.

She keeps checking her phone, but there’s no news from Hunter or Coulson yet. Mack had messaged this morning to tell her that Melinda had made it through the night, but she hadn’t woken up yet.

“Do you want to make a personal statement, Daisy?” Maria asks near the end of the meeting. “I’d rather know what you’re going to say before you post about it.”

Daisy, still without her usual phone, hadn’t posted anything to Twitter or Instagram yet. She feels underwhelmed at the thought of doing so now, but she pulls out the spare phone and opens the Notes app.

_Hi everyone—you may have heard that I was in a car accident two days ago. My car was hit by a drunk driver not long after we left a fan event where someone on the street fired a gun. No one was injured there, but in the accident, my bodyguard was badly injured. I also only got some stitches and bruises, but I also have three cracked ribs. Which, I’m sorry to tell you, means all my remaining tour dates will have to be postponed while I heal and recover. We will be working out the details of this over the next few weeks. I’d appreciate good thoughts for my bodyguard though—this person means a lot to me._

“People are going to read all kinds of things into that last sentence,” Maria warns her when Daisy turns the phone around for her to see.

Daisy purses her lips and stares at the table.

“I don’t care.”

She senses Maria giving her a proud look. “All right then. I approve. Post whenever you’re ready. Just don’t mention Melinda’s name so she can stay low-profile in the hospital.”

Daisy barely hears her, gasping as a text-message banner appears at the top of her phone.

From Mack.

**Melinda just woke up.**

~

Because she’s not family, Daisy isn’t allowed to visit until Melinda is moved out of intensive care and to a regular recovery floor. She sends flowers every day and messages Coulson frequently with messages for Melinda, but it’s not until the third day after the accident that Daisy is allowed to the hospital to see her.

She’s flanked by four guards whose names she doesn't know yet and carrying more flowers, and it occurs to her that there’s something ironic about bringing four guards to visit one. At Melinda’s door, only one enters with her, and the other three wait outside. Two steps in, Daisy has to stop and stare, brace herself…

But Melinda has already caught sight of her.

She lowers the book she was reading to her chest.

“Hey!”

Her voice is bright, in sharp contrast to her appearance. Daisy had read up on all the possible treatments for a broken pelvis, and she’s relieved to see that there aren’t some of the more horrific methods (screws and bars outside her body) visible on Melinda. But her lower right arm is in a cast, she’s got at least three tubes going into various parts of her body, and she has plenty of bruises across her face, along with a few sets of stitches.

“Ah, twinsies!” Melinda says, tapping her cheek where a stitched cut almost mirrors Daisy’s. “How are you feeling?”

Disbelievingly, Daisy sets the vase of flowers on a side table and moves to Melinda’s bedside. The guard, satisfied that the room is both safe and empty of anyone except the two women, steps back outside.

“You literally got your pelvis broken by a car three days ago,” Daisy says, “and you’re asking _me_ how I’m doing?”

“I’ve been through worse,” Melinda says nonchalantly, setting her book on the rolling table on her bed’s other side. “This is your first time to go through anything like this, though, isn’t it? How are you holding up?”

Still a little disbelieving, Daisy sits down carefully on a stool near the bedside. “I’m doing okay. Broken ribs suck.”

“You won’t be able to sing for a while, I guess?” Melinda asks with a sympathetic look. “That’s got to be hard.”

Daisy shrugs. “They’ll heal. Life goes on. I was so much more scared about you, though.”

Melinda smiles a little. “I was plenty worried for you when I woke up, too. Luckily, Coulson was here, and he told me you were safe.”

Daisy’s heart swells in her chest.

_She was thinking of me?_

“Before we knew if you made it,” Daisy says slowly, “I was just replaying everything in my head…trying to figure out what happened, trying to remember if you’d put your seatbelt on after you got up into the front seat, trying to think if I could have done something differently…”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Melinda interrupts her. “They already told me how it was a drunk driver. It could have happened to anyone—”

“Let me finish?”

Melinda closes her mouth and waits expectantly, looking perplexed.

“I was trying to remember what our last conversation was, besides whatever was said in the car after we left the fan event,” Daisy goes on. “And I couldn’t remember. The whole day was a blur, but I could remember that first night in Seattle, we went to a coffee-and-donuts food truck, and I tried green tea for the first time in exchange for you trying a Bear Claw…”

Daisy looks down at her hands, biting her lip.

“I can’t remember what we talked about that night, but I know what I didn’t say. I never said I was sorry for the way I talked to you at the VMA’s. But I also never thanked you for taking care of me afterward. And I didn’t tell you what I’ve been constantly _not telling_ _you_ since maybe your second week on my team…that I think you’re amazing. I really like you. And I want…more. But after the accident, before I knew you were okay, I was also worrying that maybe I’d never get a chance to talk to you again, and never get to tell you any of that.”

She finally looks up, hesitantly meeting Melinda’s eyes. The woman looks like she’s actively controlling her expression, and Daisy can only assume that’s not a good sign.

“Daisy…” Melinda says slowly. “I think you know that good bodyguards don’t get involved with their charges.”

Feeling her face flush, Daisy looks down at her hands again.

“Yeah I know. That’s why I was mostly not telling you…”

“Let me finish?”

Surprised, Daisy looks up again, closing her mouth.

“What I was going to say was,” Melinda goes on, “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do the same kind of work I used to for a while after this. I’ve got a few months of PT ahead, for sure. And even then, I don’t know if any clients will want a fragile bodyguard, and I might not be sent by CelebSHIELD on any assignments like a concert tour ever again. So I might be changing jobs in the future.”

Barely breathing, Daisy waits, trying not to let her hopes get too high.

“And as for the _more_ ,” Melinda continues, a twinkle in her eye, “it doesn’t look like either of us will be moving around too much for at least the next few weeks. We’re both totally out of our normal lives and can’t do much more than sit around and talk. So if you still want to try that _more_ …we may never have a better chance.”

Daring to smile, Daisy reaches disbelievingly towards her. She’s sitting closest to Melinda’s casted arm, but Daisy can still squeeze her fingers.

“Are you being serious? Because even if you’re joking, I’m not.”

Melinda’s smile grows. “Not joking. I think you’re pretty amazing too, Daisy. And as long as you’re not my employer anymore, I think I can handle not treating you like you are.”

Carefully, Daisy gets to her feet.

“I’m going to have to test that statement first.”

Her ribs twinge as she leans over the side of the bed, bringing her face carefully close to Melinda’s. For a moment, Daisy just hovers near her, bringing one hand up to brush gently over the bruises, map the places where she can safely (painlessly) plant love…

But then Melinda reaches up with her good hand, pulling Daisy down and kissing her.


End file.
